


Boy, I Can Make You Feel Alive

by teenuviel1227



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, M/M, One Night Stand, Smut, bttm!Jae, camboy!au, implied side SungPil, top!YoungK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 10:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12274254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenuviel1227/pseuds/teenuviel1227
Summary: The one where Jae is a camboy and one night, Brian goes to a gig, recognizes him, and ends up taking him home.





	Boy, I Can Make You Feel Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Very smutty. For those asking, I like switch!Jaehyungparkian but this one is going to be top!Brian.
> 
> Yeah. I’m going on holiday this weekend so IWM,YWY and WY,IE will update next week.

Brian would know that lower lip anywhere: @jaesixtynine, the only reason he was on Twitter, had been the sole proprietor of his late nights, long showers since he’d discovered his account. It wasn’t just the fact that Brian liked his body (although--make no mistake, he definitely did, especially the way that jaesixtynine’s forearms tensed right on the cusp of climax), it was also the slight hesitation, the trembling lower lip, the way that sometimes he let his teeth snag on the swell of flesh before cumming onto his own hand, that really got Brian off. In particular, Brian’s favorite video was one a mere 58 seconds long: in it, jaesixtynine is sitting on his bed, clad in an oversized pink hoodie and nothing else, a pillow between his smooth, slender thighs. He moves his hips slow, letting his hard cock leak onto the pastel fabric of the pillowcase before taking himself into his graceful hands and starting to stroke slow, fingers moving over the head of his cock, moaning--his voice is soft, hoarse, gentle, Brian notes every time he watches it--as he starts to go faster, leaning back and using his free arm to brace himself against the mattress. And then his voice curls, cracking as he cums into his hand, onto the pillow, the bed. Teeth against soft flesh, muscles straining, heavy breathing.

Brian tries not to think about it as he stands by the bar of the crowded, dimly-lit Hongdae club, but it’s hard (the situation too) when there he is, setting up on stage: jaesixtynine, the owner of the aforementioned lips, all almost-six feet of him standing on stage in a black oversized Hockey jersey-style shirt, dark hair falling into his eyes as fiddles with the cord of his electric guitar. His glasses glint in the light. He licks his lips, holds his pick between his teeth as he signals to the sound guy to turn the guitar volume up.

“Hello?” he says. “Hello? Hello?”

He adjusts the mic with one hand, using his thumb to tap at the bulbous head. Brian presses himself back against the linoleum, fax-hardwood surface, hoping that no one--especially not his bestfriend and roommate of the past five years, Park Sungjin, who is standing beside him--notices the slight discomfort in his pants.

“There he is!” Sungjin exclaims, pointing onto the stage.

Brian panics for a moment, wonders if maybe the walls of his and Sungjin’s apartment were thinner than he’d thought. “What?”

“Wonpil--Dowoon’s cute friend.” He nods toward the stage where behind Jae, the keyboard player is setting up. His hair is swept back, jawline so sharp it could probably cut through stone, his smile warm as he gestures to someone offstage. This is the secondary reason they’re here: since meeting Dowoon’s friend, Wonpil, Sungjin has been unable to shut up about him.

Brian lets out a small sigh of relief--that is, until he realizes who Wonpil is gesturing to: Dowoon, taking a seat at the drum set, testing out the snare.

“Is this Dowoon’s band?”

“Yeah what the hell’s wrong with you tonight? You’re super spaced out.”

“Oh. No it’s just I thought they were going third.” _Dowoon is friends with @jaesixtynine._

“Yeah but the other band backed out so they got the second slot. Anyway, do you think I should go with semi-corny joke or like ‘I play acoustic guitar’?”

Brian grins despite himself. “Just be yourself. You’re a great guy, I’m sure he’ll like whatever you choose to show off with. Maybe you can whip out that creamy satoori everyone’s always raving about but which you never use--”

“--oh my god what if he likes Dowoon?”

“ _What_?”

“He’s also from Busan. If he likes men with accents he might already be spoken for--”

“--do you think Dowoonie would let you down and offer to introduce you if he was already spoken for? Pull yourself together! And maybe you should stay away from the corny jokes. Save that for when you’re _already_ his boyfriend because then it’ll be harder for him to break up with your ass.”

“Asshole.” Sungjin shoves at him playfully.

Brian grins. “Be like Kang Younghyun. Calm, composed, unfazed--”

On stage, Jae lets out an “Uh-one, uh-two--”

His voice cracks over the vowels. Brian’s cock twitches in his tight jeans, suddenly reminded of the video he’d watched that morning, a new upload: jaesixtynine in the bath, already halfway through stroking himself to satisfaction, bubbles lending to the slip and slide, the pink head of his cock peeking out through the bath foam. His voice had rung out like a bell being struck over and over again in satisfaction. _Uh, uh, uh._

“Have we met the singer guy before? He looks familiar.”

“Yeah, it’s Jae! We’ve met him a billion times,” Sungjin gives him a funny look.

“Like when?”

“Halloween last year when Dowoon accidentally took e because someone told him it was candy and got into that altercation with that thug who hangs out at the arcade because he was hogging the Dance Dance Revo machine? Jae was the guy who dropped by and bought Dowoon the Pocari Sweat to flush everything out of his system?”

“I wasn’t there, I was studying for finals.”

“What? Oh. Right. I was kinda drunk myself. How about my birthday last year? When we had the not-so-Happy New Year party and Dowoon decided it’d be a fun idea to fill a keg with laughing gas?”

Brian sighs. “I wasn’t there. I was studying for the Spring Acceleration Program.”

“What the hell. Um. Well. Dowoon’s last gig where I first laid eyes on that beautiful angel playing the pia--”

“--I wasn’t there, I was studying for the Advanced Internship Program.”

“Well,” Sungjin says, as on stage, Dowoon counts the band into their first song. “I guess you’ve never met him, then.”

 

Brian has to hand it to Dowoon--for someone with a personality like butter won’t melt, he knows how to have a good time. They’re all at the band’s table now, the crowd dissipated and calmed down, everyone chilling out after their sets, old school groove music playing on low. Dowoon is telling them about a card game that he _swears_ is the quickest way to get drunk: something about passing around cards and drinking every time someone gets the number eight and then not being able to swear.

“That’s bull,” Sungjin says. “There are only four eights in a deck so the chances aren’t too good--”

“--it sounds simple,man,” Jae is saying. “But the thing is that everything has a pattern so in some kind of strange way, the odds of the same people getting an eight are pretty high. And of course, the drunker you get, your inhibitions get the better of you so you keep on swearing. And swearing means another drink. Plus there are all these rules like if you get a Queen, you get to give someone else your drink and if you get a King, then whoever you choose gets to drink twice. Also, you have to say _Quasimodo_ before you take the shot.”

“Jesus,” Brian says, first about the complexities of the game, but mostly (if he’s being honest) about the way that Jae is peeling off the label on his beer bottle, the veins on his hands pulsing from the effort, the way that he drinks from the said beer a little like a kitten: sucking at the foam that lifts up from the lip of the bottle.

Brian’s had a couple of whiskeys himself--is by no means anywhere near drunk, but close enough to the mark that he knows he’s grinning, knows that he isn’t trying to hide the fact that he can’t take his eyes off of Jae. There are other little things that the grainy, often 270p videos didn’t show: for one thing, the fact that Jae’s sense of humor is ridiculous and that his eyes are really cute.

Jae looks up at him, holds his gaze and grins. “You guys wanna pl--”

“--let’s play spin the bottle,” Sungjin interjects, half in his Seoul accent, half in satoori, almost choking on his vodka tonic, looking at Wonpil.

“What?” Brian and Jae say in unison.

“I mean. I mean let’s play spin the bottle.” Sungjin finds Wonpil’s foot under the table.

Dowoon bursts out laughing. “I didn’t realize they let minors into these bars.”

Wonpil is almost the color of his sweater. “Spin the bottle isn’t _just_ for minors. I mean. Actually, grown-ups don’t take advantage of the chance to play spin the bottle enough. When we were young, we kept on talking about wanting to get old enough to do fun stuff but now that we can do the fun stuff we never--”

“--why don’t you guys just like, take a walk?”Jae asks tentatively, lifting his eyebrows in suggestion.

“What!” Wonpil’s eyes are wide with panic.

“Yeah Jae’s right. I’m going to the arcade anyway,” Dowoon says, picking up the cue like a riff signaling a shift in pace in a song. With that, Dowoon gets up and, with a small salute, walks out of the bar.

Brian blinks, a little slow to realize what’s happening.

“--no you guys I mean that’s--” Sungjin nearly knocks over an empty shot glass. He looks around, grasping for excuses. His gaze lands on Brian. “--Brian won’t have a ride--”

“--I’ll take him,” Jae interjects, getting up and pulling Brian to his feet.

Brian feels goosebumps rise at Jae’s touch, calloused fingertips firm around his wrist.

“Yeah,” Brian says, going along with it. He tries to be funny, tries not to show he’s unnerved. He grins. “Stay safe you two.”

 

Jae’s car smells like vanilla and weed. It’s an old but well-maintained Toyota Altis that’s been painted half-blue, half-white.

“What’s up with the paint job, man?” Brian asks as he gets in, slamming the door shut behind him.

Jae laughs. Brian likes how it sounds, does his best to peel his eyes away from the way that Jae’s throat bobs when he chuckles, the way he has a habit of licking his lips until they’re slick with spit.

“Well. It used to be white but I went through this phase where I wanted all of my stuff to be relaxing to the eye or some ish like that. It didn’t last long.”

“Did you just say _ish_?”

“Yeah. Is that weird?”

Brian finds himself thinking of the first jaesixtynine video that he’d watched: in it, Jae was sitting on the edge of his couch wearing a baggy red sweater, profanities falling from his slightly parted lips as he bucked his hips, pushing himself back against the dildo, the _fuck fuck fuck_ turning into gibberish as he climaxed, some of it getting onto the camera phone lens.

“Well I mean I just didn’t expect from the v--” Brian catches himself a minute too late. _Oh fuck. Way to go, Brian._ “--I mean--”

He’s surprised to see Jae grinning, looking amused as they get to the stoplight, turning to cast a sidelong glance at Brian.

“--no shame. I’m kind of flattered. Not a lot of people have the guts to bring that shit up to my face.”

“Well,” Brian says, trying to recover as quickly as he can. _Ah, fuck it._ “I am an advocate of art. You’re doing god’s work.”

Jae lets out a laugh. “I aim to please. And it’s fun, you know. You’d be surprised how big a toll on self-esteem being unable to express oneself can be. I used to be super insecure about that shizzle but since I started camming, it’s given me a kind of confidence, you know?”

Brian grins. “You definitely don’t _seem_ insecure. But I kinda get it, I guess. It’s like selfies. You see yourself through other people’s eyes and it helps you like what you see.”

“Right. Exactly. You turn the game inside-out. It’s liberating. And some people leave me Tip Jar funds which really helps. Working at an instruments store doesn’t pay much, let me tell you.”

“Mmm. I used to work at a bookstore, a 711, Dunkin’ Donuts.”

“You ever try cam work?”

It’s Brian’s turn to burst out laughing. “No! I’d be terrible at it. I really respect what you’re doing though.”

Their eyes meet.

The stoplight turns orange.

“Left or right?” Jae asks, not moving his gaze from Brian’s.

Brian smirks, raises an eyebrow.

“Whichever way isn’t home.”

Green.

 

Jae’s place is kind of like himself: put together in a quirky, un-put-together kind of way. None of the furniture matches but it all somehow fits into its own aesthetic--faded blues, yellows, purples.

Brians takes a seat on the floral-print couch, one he’s seen grace one of Jae’s many videos.

“You want anything to drink?”

“Just water.”

Jae nods, heading into the small kitchenette and coming out with a glass of water for Brian.

Brian takes a sip, the coolness of it refreshing against his parched throat. “Thanks.”

“So what do you do?” Jae plops down onto the couch next to him--languid, easy.

“Well. I’m on a scholarship at Dongguk for Business Admin. So mostly, I study. But for extra cash, I help out at the campus museum, translating tours for visiting foreign nationals and lecturers. That sorta thing.”

“Cool,” Jae says. “Why _do_ you speak English so well? Did you grow up in the US?”

“I studied in Canada for high school.”

“That’s dope. I grew up in LA but moved back here to study music.”

“You were really good on stage tonight,” Brian says, gaze falling on Jae’s hands where they’re draped over the fabric of the couch, only inches from Brian’s arms. He doesn’t notice he’s doing it but he starts to inch closer: the nudge of a knee, the graze of a nail against skin.

“Thanks,” Jae says, studying Brian’s face, lingering on his lips. Brian’s face grows hot. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“I bet.”

"So not to sound overindulgent here--but which is your favorite?"

"What?" Brian can't stop staring at Jae's mouth.

"Of the cam vids."

"Oh."

Jae skims his fingers up Brian's forearms, touch light as a feather.

"Um. The pink hoodie one. With--the pillow--"

"--I'm good with other things to you know," Jae half-whispers. "I mean. Like. Not just pillows."

"I'll bet." With that, Brian cups Jae’s cheek and brings their lips together in a kiss, tongue flicking up against the roof of Jae’s mouth, slipping easy through parted lips.

 

Jae is unlike nothing, no one Brian’s ever seen, slept with. Long legs and milk skin for miles, he moves like silk under Brian’s hands, breath hitching  hips bucking as Brian kisses the hollow of his neck, as he palms at his already-hard cock. They’ve moved into the bedroom, are kissing with most of their clothes off: Jae in nothing but his baggy shirt, Brian only wearing his boxers now, cock making a tent of the fabric, a patch of wetness on the front.

The television is on in the other room.

“Fuck,” Jae says, tugging at the waistband of Brian’s boxers, pulling them off and tossing them aside. He maneuvers a lithe leg around Brian’s, reversing their positions so that Brian is lying with his back flush against the mattress.

Jae sighs against him, kissing him messy, all tongue and teeth, nipping Brian’s upper lip where it curls when he smiles before moving lower, leaving love bites in the wake of his kisses along Brian’s neck, chest,swirling his tongue around Brian’s nipples until they’re taut.

Brian bucks his hips, rubbing their erections together, doing his best to hold onto Jae’s hips, to keep himself in the moment: the flurry of hair, the wet lips, the warmth of him hot with arousal, sweat dripping from Jae’s chest onto his.

And then Jae is slipping from his grasp, tongue tracing the line from his navel to the hollow of his hips, kissing the crease of Brian’s pelvis where flesh lets out, curves.

He watches Jae with hungry eyes as Jae licks the tip of his cock before taking it into his hot, wet mouth, using his lips to play with the head until it’s throbbing.

“Jesus FUCK, JAE--oh god, your lips, your fucking lips--”

Brian mewls as Jae takes him deeper, Brian’s cock coming flush with the back of Jae’s throat. The sound is wet, soft, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, between choking and mewling. Spit runs down Jae’s chin as Brian thrusts into his mouth, trying to gain control. When Jae feels Brian tense against him, he lets off.

Brian gasps from the sudden loss of friction.

“--oh fuck--”

Jae is panting hard, comes back up to kiss Brian, tongue meeting tongue.

“Fuck me, Brian.”

With that, Brian fumbles for the bottle of lube and packet of condoms nearby, tearing open the wrapper and slipping the condom on before lathering his cock with lube. He warms some lube up on his hands before circling Jae’s hole with his fingers. _Holy fuck, he’s so open._ Jae moans against his mouth as Brian feels for the bloom, the pucker against his thick fingers.

“There we go,” Brian whispers softly, grinning as he guides himself slowly into Jae, pushing his cock carefully against his rim, kissing Jae’s shoulder as he takes him in.

Jae starts to move his hips slow, adjusting to the way Brian feels inside him, watching Brian’s gaze on him, tossing his head back to bare his throat because he knows Brian is enjoying the view. And then Jae starts to move, riding Brian hard, the only sound in the room their heavy breathing, sweat-slicked skin slapping against skin.

“Fuck,” Jae says as Brian uses both hands to jerk Jae off, using one hand to stroke his shaft, the other to palm the head close, hard. “Fuckfuckfuck--Brian oh god, fuck how dare you make me feel so fucking good--oh fuck me--oh fuck me like that--”

“Oh fuck you ride me so well, Jae,” Brian says, biting his lip so hard he thinks he might draw blood.

Jae’s voice cracks as he finds his prostate by leaning back onto Brian’s cock just the right way. He moves back again and again, quicker now, faster, faster for them both. Brian cries out, hands grasping the sheets as Jae delivers the final blow for them both. Brian cums first, spilling into the condom, holding Jae down as he keeps going, fucking into him, hitting Jae’s prostate hard until Jae arches his back and cries out, spilling white, pulsing cum onto Brian’s stomach.

They collapse beside each other on the bed, out of breath, spent.

“Holy fuck,” Brian says again, sleepiness and sudden exhaustion washing over him.

“Holy fudging caramel bars,” Jae replies, grinning at him.

Brian laughs. “You’re so weird.”

“Well. Sure. But you’re the one in my bed, drenched in my cum--so who’s the real winner here?”

For once in his life, Brian finds himself unable to argue.


End file.
